


Wet Letter Day

by stateofintegrity



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stateofintegrity/pseuds/stateofintegrity
Summary: During mail call on a rainy day, Charles gets a surprise.
Relationships: Maxwell Klinger/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Wet Letter Day

The leaf sent by the little girl was pressed between the pages of  _ Orlando _ ; Charles intended to keep it all his life. 

Outside, leaves were pressed to the ground, their desperate colors flashing: last chance, last chance. Rain battered them, staking them to the ground with a cold crystal downpour. Inside, an odd assortment of rain catchers had been pressed into service: a bedpan, an overturned helmet, the tea kettle with its lid removed. The varying depth of these vessels created a liquid symphony - plink, plunk, plash - that had Charles half mad to be away, to be  _ anywhere _ but here. On the verge of standing to seek his CO (maybe Potter could send him up to battalion aid?), in the bony-fingered grip of an autumnal despair - he heard the swing hinge of the door, turned to see Klinger dripping in an oil slicker, damp hair flopped over one eye. 

“Mail this late?” 

“Not exactly. I was walking by and I could tell you were upset. Thought I’d try something. You mind?” 

The Corporal didn’t actually let him answer. In the time it took Charles to blink, Max removed and neatly hung up his coat, crossed the room to stand between his legs, and tilted his head back in a kiss that became the warm center of the universe on that cool autumn day. 

Charles knew that the proper script for such a situation involved pushing Max away and demanding answers. But when the Corporal drew back, his pretty eyes stayed closed a minute, lashes beating on his cheeks and Charles knew just what he was doing. Maxwell was trying to hang on to the feel of him - to stretch the physical sensation of their joined mouths out past the actual seconds it had occupied.  _ A keepsake kiss.  _

Then his eyes opened - dark as the sky when it acts as a cradleboard for infant stars - and all Charles said was, “Close the side flaps, would you Corporal darling?” 

“No one can see a thing with the way the rain’s coming down,” Klinger informed him, flashing him a teasing smile, “But okay.” It was a hell of a lot better than  _ close the door on your way out, see you at your court martial.  _

When he returned to the Major’s side, Max was trembly; his daring had been exhausted in the first throw. But Charles was happy to pick up where he’d left off. That first kiss hadn’t been a casual one. It had, rather, conferred a sense of certainty: Klinger desired him - and had done so for awhile. This discovery made Charles bold enough to draw the pretty Corporal onto his lap and steal a second kiss, brightening the mouth under his. Klinger snuggled into him, chilled with being out in the autumn rain, and threaded his fingers in his hair. 

Sweetly worshipful, he stroked the nape of his neck and made Charles wish to be kissed there. Calloused fingers slipped over Charles’ arms, caressed the soft skin of his wrists; manicured nails gently scratched sensory paths on the underside of his long fingers. It was entrancing, lulling - the silver leafy shimmer of the rain outside, the happy, encouraging noises Maxwell made just for him, and Charles let his eyes close. 

“Let me get you a blanket, Major baby,” Klinger murmured,a perfect answer for that darling stuff - and Charles hated losing the warmth of him for even a minute. 

Klinger wrapped him up and used his feet to push Charles shoes off. “There’s not supposed to be any casualties tonight,” he soothed, “so let yourself relax, huh?” 

Klinger’s hands were surprisingly strong as he massaged Charles’ wrists and hands, kissing the backs of them, leaving faint lipstick traces that in a garnet color the fallen leaves outside would have envied. “Maxwell, you have either thought about this before or your friendship with Walter O’Reilly has given you the ability to read my mind.” 

“I think about you all the time, Major. And right now I think you need to get some sleep.” 

“If I fall asleep, I will miss your lips on my fingers.” But his eyes did not open. 

“Major baby, I’ve been after a section eight for two years. I’ll be here tomorrow.” 

Charles was asleep. 

Success. 

Klinger slipped down from his lap, tucked the blanket in around the man’s long limbs and went back into the rain, whistling happily. The weather might have everyone else in foul spirits - but he kind of liked it! 

***

The rain still fell at 5:30 AM, an hour Winchester usually failed to believe in, and Klinger slept curled like a little black cat, covers comfortably worn and mismatched. 

Charles climbed in with him, the smell of autumn rain in his hair. Even here, downed leaves gave off that yew tree and cinnamon fragrance that made him want to light candles in jack-o-lanterns. Klinger stirred, nuzzled into him.  _ Oh, Corporal darling, you should have climbed into my lap a long time ago _ , he thought, holding the smaller man tight against him, already becoming addicted to his warmth, his feel. 

Then Klinger opened his eyes. 

Those eyes. 

When they recognized who they were looking at, they woke up in a hurry - then  _ glowed _ . “Major? How’d you get in?” 

“I have seen you pick enough locks. It seems I, ah, acquired the skill.” 

“You’d  _ pick a lock  _ to see me?” 

“You, ah, picked the lock of  _ my mouth, _ beautiful. And I have to say your perfect gentleness both surprised and impressed me. I expected you to be, ah, well… more eager.” 

Those big, deep, brown eyes looked earnestly up at him - admiring, respecting, trusting. How had he missed all that? “That wasn’t what you needed me to be.” 

“No one has ever considered my needs… except to punish me for them.”

Klinger gripped his hand. “That’s awful.” 

“Max… I hate that I did not see you until now.”

“Start.” 

Charles twined their fingers.  _ Yes, love. I will.  _

And though it was a season of endings, of colors burning out, it felt like a new beginning to the Major. 

End!


End file.
